


Elevator Man

by DittyWrites



Series: Birds of Gay (2020) [6]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), DCEU, DCU
Genre: (Art posted within), Companionable Snark, Dom/sub Undertones, Inspired by Art, M/M, Mild Kink, Mild Painplay, Orgasm, Riding, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23912980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DittyWrites/pseuds/DittyWrites
Summary: After Roman treats himself to a new piece of furniture which he plans to display in the club, Victor is taken with how impressive Roman looks atop his new throne and uses the opportunity to show him just how much it suits him.
Relationships: Black Mask/Victor Zsasz, Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz
Series: Birds of Gay (2020) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629667
Comments: 6
Kudos: 119





	Elevator Man

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was inspired by the fantastic piece of artwork which sits below this note and was the brainchild of the wonderful Mælibe and i'll link her twitter so that you can go and check out her other fantastic works: 
> 
> https://twitter.com/maelipie
> 
> As always, feedback is loved and appreciated and I hope you all enjoy both the artwork and the fic xx

“Gorgeous, isn’t she?”

Running his gloved hands along the plush velvet of his latest purchase, Roman amused himself by tracing patterns in the fabric before wiping them off. Bought via auction, the chair possessed a deep brown colouring which was rich with age yet entirely unblemished while both the back and arms were sat at a perfect height to ensure his comfort. It was delightful and his expression was smug as he turned to face Victor, awaiting his response.

“It’s great, boss.” Victor replied, eyeing the chair with an appreciative expression, knowing what Roman was looking for, “Suits you.”

“I’m thinking of having it installed downstairs in the club, away from the animals and their clumsy drink-spilling hands.” Roman settled his back against the chair, “What do you think?”

“Where would you put it?”

Unimpressed with the question, Roman narrowed his eyes slightly at he squinted at Victor.

“Wherever the fuck I want. It’s expensive, comfortable, and I can do what the fuck I want in my club. Why are you even questioning that?”

“The chair is nice.” Victor conceded, placating Roman with a smile, “It would look great in the club.”

As Roman lounged in his chair, he admired the way in which the colouring of the piece complimented the outfit which he had chosen for the evening. The suit was new, the light blue colouring offset by a subtle floral pattern which was easy to miss until the light caught it and revealed the intricate craftsmanship. Offset by a deep navy top and matching black pocket square, it was a bold look which Roman knew he could pull off with more than a little flair. Deep navy, monogrammed gloves, a custom pair to match the top and pocket square, and just a touch of dark liner was enough to compliment the look which he would be showcasing later as he conducted his rounds in the club.

He only had one meeting planned so it would be a night of pleasure more than business and he intended to enjoy it.

In what seemed to be a deliberate contrast to his subtle elegance, the shirt which Victor had chosen to wear for the evening was gaudy and, in Roman’s opinion, ugly as fuck. The soft mustard colouring was offset by brown vertical stripes which were thick and tacky, matched with dark denim which clung to his lower half like it depended on it.

But it made him happy and no one was brave enough to call out Victor Zsasz, noted psychopath with an obscene history of violence and cruelty, on his fashion sense. Roman indulged it because it was what Victor enjoyed wearing and he was open to allowing Roman to buy more tasteful pieces and dress him for important occasions. He was rarely indulgent but if anyone had earned it, it was Victor.

“Do you really think it suits me?”

“Yeah, you look like a king.”

“Oh, I like that.” Preening like a peacock, Roman crossed one leg over the other as he encouraged Victor to go on. “Tell me more.”

“All those fucking zombies down there should know that they’re sitting with someone so much better than them.” Dropping to his knees by the side of the chair, one of Victor’s hands lay on the edge of the arm of the chair while the other immediately latched on to Roman’s arm and he could feel the gentle grasp through the fabric of his suit. “They’re sad, miserable fucking lives made better because they’re sharing a room with Roman fuckin’ Sionis. Sitting on your chair, like a king.”

One glove ran through his hair as Roman tilted his head away from Victor, the praise drawing a broad smile from his lips and causing the slightest blush to rise high on his cheeks.

“Roman Sionis.” Victor almost purred in his low tones. “King of Gotham.”

Uncrossing his legs, Roman brushed off his thighs in clear invitation and Victor took the hint as slid onto Roman’s lap at the other man’s insistence. Victor settled comfortably as the sturdy chair did not appear to struggle holding the two fully-grown men and his ass settled on Roman’s groin and even through the denim, he could feel the growing hardness there.

Continuing to mutter soft praises as he dragged his teeth along the sensitive skin of Romans’ neck, Victor was careful not to leave any visible marks on the unblemished skin. It was a struggle as the small voice within Victor’s head demanded that he mark Roman, that he show the world who Roman belonged to through a series of bruises and bite marks which would prove to the world that Roman was his as much as he was Roman’s. However, the victory would not be worth the fallout as Roman had a habit of being a whiny bitch when any visible marks marred his perfect image.

That didn’t mean that Victor went entirely unfulfilled and Romans’ chest and thighs usually fell victim to his ministrations. Roman’s thighs in particular were a sweet spot since he was particularly sensitive in that area and, despite his sadistic glee at marking Victor, he was not opposed to some masochistic markings of his own. Which Victor indulged in providing him with some delight.

Gnawing lightly at the base of Roman’s neck where neck met shoulder, Victor was rewarded with a full-bodied shudder from the other man as he pushed his groin up to meet Victor’s ass.

“You’re playing a dangerous game.” Roman growled, gripping the back of Victor’s head with his gloved hands as he encouraged him to continue teasing his neck. “Very fucking dangerous indeed.”

In lieu of a response, Victor sunk his teeth in the lobe of Roman’s ear, eliciting a sharp gasp from the seated figure followed by a rough grunt.

“That’s it. Get the fuck off me and strip.”

At the simple demand, Victor slid free of Roman and stood before him. Making short work of the clothing on his lower half, he was soon left in nothing but his shirt and dark silk boxers, a gift from Roman, as he slowly started to unbutton the shirt.

“Might as well rip it off,” Roman muttered with a bitchy tone as he spread his legs and palmed his hard cock through his suit trousers, “It’s not like anyone will miss it. Ugly fucking shirt.”

Moving even slower out of sheer spite, Victor took his time with the final button before pulling it free of his body and dropping it gently on the carpet to an appreciative hum from Roman as his entire torso was exposed.

“Those fucking scars...” Roman trailed off. With one hand he unzipped his trousers and slipped his hand beneath his boxers to free himself, releasing a sigh as his cock was exposed to the warm air of the room.

The sight of Roman astride his new throne, oozing the confidence of a man who knows he is positioned exactly where he belongs, still full clothed but with his cock free and standing to attention due to his own actions had Victor feeling painfully hard within his own boxers. The power which Roman was exuding was heady and Victor wanted to drown himself within it. One day Roman would rule this fucking cesspit of a city and Victor would be there to ensure his reign.

“What do you want, boss?” Victor asked, willing to give anything.

“You’re going to ride me, Mister Zsasz.”

Cock twitching at the firm demand, Victor padded over to the chest of drawers which housed most of Roman’s underwear and various sex toys. Pulling free a condom and a small bottle of lube, he slammed the drawer shut with his foot, drawing a look of irritation from Roman as his furniture was mistreated, before retaking his position in front of the chair.

Facing his boss with his head just above Roman’s knees, Victor squirted some of the lube onto his fingers and warmed it up for a moment before circling his hole to coat it. Slipping a finger inside, he sighed as the action caused the arousal within his stomach to spike and he chased the sensation as he inserted a second finger. Scissoring them quickly, he stretched himself with little care for the painful ache which the movements caused and his frantic nature caught Roman’s attention with a wolf-like grin.

“Eager?” Roman asked, bringing one gloved hand to Victor’s chin before running a velvet digit across his lips. His other hand had lost the glove at some point and was now running leisurely along the shaft of his cock, casually jerking himself as he watched Victor prepare himself. The sensation of the soft velvet across his chapped, dry lips sent an electric spark down his spine and he added a third digit to his ass, matching the gentle sensation with something rougher.

Once he felt suitably opened up, his cock now leaking pre-cum despite having remained untouched throughout the whole encounter, he stood from his position to let Roman know that he was ready.

“Get any mess on my new chair and you’ll be sorry.” Roman warned, absolutely serious despite his aroused state as he eyed Victor with an open leer. “I’m serious, Mister Zsasz, I will have you gutted and strung up like a trophy kill.”

“Sounds like fun.” Victor said, his attention focused on rolling the condom he had picked up from the drawer onto Roman’s hard cock. Roman always used a rubber and Victor didn’t care enough to question it. Using his considerable strength to keep him from dropping into Roman’s lap harshly, Victor slowly eased himself down onto Roman’s cock, impaling himself fully as his breath was snatched away by the ache of the sudden stretching and the welcome fullness which accompanied it.

Roman lacked the strength to ride him for any great length of time but Victor possessed enough strength and sheer determination to please that he could go for as long as Roman needed, even as the effort caused his arms and legs to burn and ache. The unpleasant sensations only heightened his arousal as pain dissolved into pleasure and spurned him on.

Pulling himself up, Victor was quick to build a rhythm as he rode Roman. Wincing as he sank down fully, bottoming out on Roman’s lap, the pain of the stretching was nothing compared to the savage pleasure which was curling his toes as he listened to Roman groan behind him while taking everything which he had to offer.

Beneath him, Roman was struggling to keep his breathing in check as he gripped the arms of the chair as though they were a lifeline. Victor was so tight and warm that it was almost painful against his sensitive cock and his lust for Victor and everything which he stood for was something which he was barely able to stand.

_Roman fuckin’ Sionis._

_King of Gotham._

He liked that.

Content to allow Victor to continue pleasing him, Roman brought his glove free hand to the exposed skin of Victor’s back and traced along some of the fresher scar marks. He knew the story behind many of these markings but there were many more which he had no knowledge of, but what he was more interested in was the blank space between the scarring. The potential there of who these areas would come to be filled with, what enemies they would slaughter before Roman had the pleasure of carving their passing into such a beautiful canvas.

The slaughter of his enemies, celebrated with blood and, more often than not, sex.

It was beautiful.

As Victor clenched around him, causing a low moan to escape his throat, Roman matched the move by scoring his nails down the exposed back, his nails stuttering over the scarred flesh as they left thin red lines in their wake. The pain was unexpected, and Victor jerked in place, his rhythm picking up as he worked both himself and Roman towards their end.

Victor gave a savage grunt as one of his thrusts grazed against his prostate and the unexpected jolt of pure pleasure mixed with the sting of Roman’s nails against his exposed back was enough to push him over the edge. His head tilted backwards and his spine arched back into Roman’s harsh nails as he came, his careful positioning ensuring that all mess was carefully directed away from both Roman’s outfit and chair, instead arcing through the air before landing on the floor.

The frantic clenching of Victor’s ass as he came was enough to also push Roman to his own orgasm as he gave a few final thrusts, his hands latching on to Victor’s hips with a painful grip to hold him in place as Roman moaned his own release; grinding into Victor’s ass as he squeezed his body roughly.

Both now fully spent, Victor used the last of his strength to pull himself free of Roman and stand on legs which were only a little shaky. Roman, to his credit, offered a lazy hand for Victor to steady himself as his other hand peeled the condom free of his softening cock. Eyeing the mess on the carpet silently, Roman looked like he wanted to make a comment, but nothing came of it and Victor took his silence as a positive.

Holding out a hand, Victor took the used condom and moved to drop it in the small bin which lay by the drawers. His body was aching pleasantly, and he knew Roman would enjoy the view of his exposed body and the score marks which were no doubt littered across his back like a signature. He needed to shower before they started work for the evening and he indicated the en-suite with a head tilt.

“I’ll need to shower before we start.”

“I would hope so,” Roman sniffed, tucking himself away and zipping up his trousers, “I can’t have you standing next to me stinking of sweat and filth now, can I?”

Rolling his eyes at the condescending tone, Victor gave a leisurely stretch and opened the door to the en-suite.

“So, what’s the deal with the chair?” He asked, pausing in the doorway as he considered whether or not to put a message out to the construction team which Roman used for business. “You putting it downstairs?”

“Eventually,” Roman answered, calling over his shoulder, “but I may buy another one to keep up here since you seem to enjoy it so much.”

Victor smirked at the thought.

Only Roman’s ego would have him dropping thousands of dollars on purchasing a second replica chair just because he had been told he looked good in it.

King of Gotham indeed.


End file.
